


In Search of Home

by enigmaticblue



Series: Sun 'Verse [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-05
Updated: 2010-10-05
Packaged: 2017-10-12 10:57:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/124145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Over that first long winter, Castiel realized that home and Dean meant the same thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Search of Home

**Author's Note:**

> Set during the spring of 2011, just after chapter 6 in Somewhere Back of the Sun.

“So what did you think?”

 

Dean limped along next to Cas, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his leather coat. Cas gave some consideration to the question. “I like it here.”

 

“Yeah?” Dean glanced back over his shoulder at the drug store, and its weathered façade. “It’s small.”

 

“It’s a good place to raise children,” Cas pointed out. “Current circumstances notwithstanding.”

 

Dean shrugged. “If it’s not one thing, it’s another. I imagine there are plenty of creatures coming out of hiding now that Lucifer’s gone.”

 

Cas hesitated, then asked, “Do you miss it?”

 

“No.”

 

Cas frowned. “Dean—”

 

“Maybe a little,” Dean said, caving in the face of his steady gaze. “I miss—I miss the rhythm of it sometimes.”

 

Cas climbed into the passenger seat of the Impala, keeping his silence. “We have a rhythm now,” he pointed out.

 

“Yeah, but it’s different.” Dean stared at the steering wheel, his knuckles going white as he gripped tight. “I’m never going to be able to hunt again, not like I used to, and I’m okay with that,” he insisted. “Without—it’s not the same anymore.”

 

Cas could hear what Dean didn’t say—without Sam it wouldn’t be the same, and it was better to have something different that didn’t serve as a daily reminder of Sam’s absence. It was good to break from the past completely.

 

Getting that clean break, as Dean would say, had been easy for Cas. Even his name had changed; he no longer thought of himself as “Castiel.” He was _Cas_ now, and only a spark of his old power remained.

 

Cas didn’t mind much, though. He had Dean, and that was enough. It was more than he’d thought he’d have for a while.

 

~~~~~

 

When Castiel closed his eyes at night, he could sometimes see the glory of heaven, remember what it felt like to stand with his brothers and sisters, voices raised in endless anthems of praise.

 

Always, however, he felt that single-minded purpose that had filled him when he’d received his orders: raise Dean Winchester from the depths of perdition. From that moment, Dean had been his only purpose.

 

He hadn’t known then that Dean had already broken the first seal, that Castiel would be too late to stop the slow march towards Armageddon. And, while Castiel would never speak this truth out loud, he often thought that he had no regrets, not for any of it.

 

Anna may have chosen to fall, to cast off her grace and be born anew, but there had been no one choice for Castiel, but instead a slow progression. He’d chosen to care, to rebel against orders, to stand by Dean, to not leave his side.

 

And then, Castiel thought, he had chosen to love.

 

Sometimes, he believed that his Father would be most proud of that choice.

 

~~~~~

 

Howard Walters’ weathered face broke out in a grin as Dean introduced them. “So, you’re the boys Bobby said he’d send our way. It’s a pleasure to meet you two.”

 

“I just hope we can help, Mr. Walters,” Dean replied, looking around at the well-kept house, and the large pen out front. The dogs inside the pen had started baying as soon as they’d driven onto the property, and Cas thought he understood where Howl had received his nickname.

 

Howl nodded. “Call me Howl. I hope you can, too. We’re not the only community in the area to be hit, and at first, folks thought it was just a childhood illness.”

 

“Any deaths?” Dean asked.

 

Howl nodded. “One, but there are three others from Cypress Grove who are sick, and at least four others from surrounding communities.”

 

“If children are the targets, then it may be a shtriga,” Cas said thoughtfully. “Or perhaps a lamia, or stix.”

 

There were other possibilities, of course, but he thought he’d know if a demon were around, or if someone was trying to call up a demon. The last remaining embers of his grace would tell him that much—he hoped.

 

Howl shook his head. “I have to admit that I never paid all that much attention when Shep talked about ghosts and things. Maybe I should have, but he was usually drunk by then, and I thought it was the alcohol speaking.”

 

“Not the alcohol,” Dean confirmed. “At least, not just that. Who got sick first, do you know?”

 

“Well, that would be Billy Caldwell, and he passed on just a couple of days ago.” Howl’s grave expression suggested real sorrow. “I just sold the Caldwells a dog a few weeks ago, and that boy was over the moon about it.”

 

“And the next?” Dean asked.

 

Howl led them into the house, shutting the door behind them and muffling the sound of the dogs. “Come on in. Kitchen’s this way.”

 

Cas sat next to Dean at the small table, small enough that their knees couldn’t help but brush. He still wasn’t quite sure how to navigate these uncharted waters—Cas had never felt this way before. When they touched, it was electric, sending bright ribbons of energy through him, sharpening his senses in such a way that he forgot that he wasn’t an angel anymore.

 

Last night, laying half on top of Dean, sandwiched between two sleeping bags under the stars—it had almost been like flying again.

 

“Beer?” Howl asked.

 

Dean accepted for both of them, and Cas sipped from the can slowly, savoring it, saying nothing and letting Dean take the lead.

 

Dean, who so rarely felt as though he was in control these days, who had been so helpless this last winter, and who needed to make the first move. Cas didn’t mind following him; it was something of a relief to _not_ be the one in charge.

 

“Who was the next one?” Dean asked. “To get sick, I mean.”

 

“That would be Emmaline Birch,” Howl replied. “She’s still hanging in there.”

 

Dean drank his beer, and Cas could see the gears turning. “You think her parents would mind one of us keeping vigil? And if there are any other kids about the same age, we’d like to keep watch there, too.”

 

Howl considered the request. “The Birches would probably take any hope they can get right now, especially after Billy’s passing. As for who might be next, probably the Richardsons. There aren’t that many kids of that age here in town, and Mandy Richardson is the only one I can think of.”

 

“I’ll sit vigil over her then, and Cas will watch over Emmaline,” Dean said. “We’ll get this figured out, and hopefully stop it at the source.”

 

Howl nodded. “I’ll talk to them, see if I can’t get their permission. They may want to sit with you.”

 

“They can,” Dean said. “But let them know that they may not like what they see. You can’t forget after you’ve seen what we have.”

 

“I’ll talk to them,” Howl promised.

 

Dean nodded. “If you don’t mind, we’ll get back to town. If we’re going to be up that late, we’d probably better catch a nap.”

 

“I’ve got a room upstairs, if you don’t want to go back to town.”

 

Dean glanced over at Cas, who shrugged. He didn’t care one way or another where they slept. They could crash in the car if need be.

 

“I’ll take you up on that offer,” Dean replied. “Cas and I can share a bed. We don’t mind.”

 

Howl smiled at that. “I’m sure. Come on. I’ll show you the room.”

 

~~~~~

 

Castiel had never loved anyone as he loved Dean—he had loved his Father, and he had loved his brothers and sisters, but he had never loved another carnally.

 

Now, he found himself craving physical contact, desiring the touch of skin on skin, as much as he craved food or sleep. It was one more requirement his body placed on him that Castiel would have to grow accustomed to, something he could have lived without last week, but couldn’t this one.

 

He believed that his Father listened to his prayers—Castiel couldn’t help but believe. His faith had been confirmed when Dean’s life had been saved. Now, he found himself praying that Dean would have faith, that Dean would find his way again, that he would recognize his own worth.

 

Cas prayed for a home, for a safe place to raise their children, for a place of rest. He didn’t think it was too much to ask what with everything they’d sacrificed.

 

~~~~~

 

Cas woke with Dean wrapped around him, his nose buried in the juncture of Cas’ neck and shoulder, hands grasping his t-shirt.

 

He glanced towards the window and realized that the sun had begun its descent. “Dean.”

 

Dean woke quickly, his eyes blinked open, immediately alert. “What is it?”

 

Cas wished, just for once, that Dean could wake slowly, that he could see the vulnerability sleep bestowed. “It’s late afternoon.”

 

Dean sat up, looking past him to the window. “Yeah, I suppose it is. Better get going, I guess.”

 

Howl met them downstairs. “The Birches and the Richardsons have agreed, but Maryanne and I are going to accompany you.”

 

“I think we can deal with that,” Dean agreed. “I’m assuming you both can shoot straight.”

 

Howl nodded. “Of course.”

 

“Then Maryanne’s with Cas, and you’re with me.”

 

Cas didn’t know whether to be gratified or insulted by Dean putting Maryanne with him; he wasn’t sure what it said about Dean’s opinions on Howl or Maryanne, or him, or Dean’s own physical prowess.

 

“Both families are in town,” Howl said. “We might as well get started. If you boys are hungry, I’ve got a plate of sandwiches in the fridge.”

 

Cas followed Dean’s lead and snagged a couple of sandwiches, sticking one in his jacket pocket and eating the other on the road into town.

 

“Why did you put me with Maryanne?” Cas asked from the passenger seat of the Impala.

 

Dean sighed. “Because Howl looks like he might be capable of taking whatever it is, and with my leg, I need the extra help.”

 

“We didn’t have to split up,” Cas protested.

 

“This is our best chance to catch this thing.” Cas watched as a muscle in Dean’s jaw twitched. “I need you behind me on this, Cas.”

 

“Of course,” he replied without hesitation. “You know I will follow you anywhere. I just—I’m worried about you.”

 

It was as close as he’d come to speaking of his true feelings, of repeating himself—Cas had meant it when he’d said that he’d done everything for Dean, that he’d given everything up for Dean.

 

Dean reached over and rested a hand on Cas’ knee. “Thanks. I—I’m not good at this kind of thing.”

 

“Just promise me that you’ll be careful.”

 

“I have you to come back to, don’t I? And Ben, and Mary.” Dean squeezed Cas’ knee before releasing him again. “I’ll be careful.”

 

Cas thought he might be able to believe him, if not for his sake, then for Ben’s.

 

~~~~~

 

Once upon a time—at least, Castiel thought that’s how all such tales began—he had been an angel of the Lord, a warrior who had faced down the fiercest minions of hell in order to complete his mission. He had been sure of his purpose, and he’d had no doubts.

 

And then, he had met Dean, and he’d begun to question.

 

Castiel—now Cas—was filled with the same purpose now; he had no doubts that staying with Dean had been the correct decision.

 

He no longer fought the minions of hell, but hunger, and privation, and despair. Castiel had no regrets; his intentions were pure.

 

Love had transformed him; heaven was no longer his home.

 

~~~~~

 

Cas watched as Maryanne spoke to Cara and Andrew Birch. “We’re just going to watch over her tonight,” she assured them.

 

“Isn’t this just an illness? Just—something normal?” Cara sounded desperate to believe just that, and Cas understood that impulse. No one liked to believe that the monsters under the bed or in the closet were real.

 

Maryanne patted her on the shoulder. “Maybe it is, but if there’s even a chance that it’s caused by something other than a nasty bug, wouldn’t you want to try?”

 

“Anything,” Andrew said. “We trust you, Maryanne, and after what happened to Billy, I’m not willing to take any chances with her life.”

 

Maryanne nodded briskly. “Good. You two try to get some sleep. We’ll keep watch.”

 

Cas approached Emmaline’s twin bed, surprised to find her watching him, and feebly trying to sit up. He knelt down next to her. “You must rest. We’re going to try to help you.”

 

“Are you a doctor?” she whispered.

 

“No, I’m not, but we think we can help. Will you let us?”

 

The girl nodded, and Cas could see the freckles splashed across her nose in the light from the hallway. She was only a couple of years younger than Mary, with dark hair and blue eyes; she was a pretty little thing, in spite of the misery writ large on her face. Sympathy formed a tight ball in his chest, and he looked over his shoulder at the Birches, who were watching him with worried eyes.

 

“Would you mind if I prayed for her?” he asked, wanting to be respectful of their beliefs and wishes.

 

“Are—are you a pastor?” Cara asked.

 

Cas hesitated before opting for some version of the truth. “I am a messenger. I cannot make any promises.”

 

“We aren’t religious people,” Andrew said. “But we don’t mind. We’ll—we’ll try anything.”

 

Cas nodded. “Then I will pray.”

 

He rested a hand on her forehead, feeling the too-warm skin. Cas’ lips moved in a silent entreaty, asking his Father for Emmaline’s healing, for peaceful rest, and that she would sleep and not remember the evening’s events.

 

When he withdrew his hand, Emmaline was sleeping deeply, her expression peaceful.

 

“Is she—” Cara started forward, pushing past Cas to fumble for a pulse.

 

“She’s sleeping,” Cas assured her. “I believe she’ll sleep through the night.”

 

Cara let out a sound that was half a sob. “She hasn’t been sleeping well. She’s been restless and having nightmares, and—” She put her hand over her mouth. “I thought—”

 

“You should sleep as well,” Cas said, steering her to the door. “We’ll let you know if anything changes.”

 

After reassuring both parents several times, they finally left Cas and Maryanne to their vigil, and Cas sat down on the straight-backed chair the Birches had provided. He pulled out the .38 Dean had left with him, resting it on his leg.

 

“I’ve never seen anybody have their prayers answered like that.” Maryanne had grabbed her rifle, laying it across her lap. “It was like a miracle.”

 

“I don’t know anything about miracles,” Cas said after a moment.

 

Maryanne snorted. “You’re not a very good liar.”

 

Cas smiled. “So I’ve been told.”

 

“Well?”

 

“You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you,” Cas replied, glancing over at her. “I told the Birches the truth; I am a messenger.”

 

Maryanne frowned. “From the Greek?”

 

Cas blinked. “You caught that?”

 

“I’m a fan of language, and I’ve read a lot of books.” Maryanne watched him carefully. “Is it true?”

 

“It was.” Cas didn’t know how much to tell her. “Not anymore.”

 

“That’s something you don’t hear every day,” Maryanne murmured. “I have to admit, I feel a bit better about sitting here waiting for this thing.”

 

“It may not come here,” Cas warned her, “but we should be quiet for now.”

 

Dean had told him to trust his instincts in the past, and his instinct now told him that he could trust this woman. He was grateful for the chance to change the subject, however, or at least the opportunity to avoid talking about it.

 

Cas slipped into the state of relaxed high alert he’d perfected while watching over Dean, aware of every change in the air, of every breath his charge took.

 

When the air chilled as the window slid open, he silently signaled Maryanne to remain still. He knew they would have to wait for the creature to begin feeding.

 

As it crept towards the child’s bed, Cas recognized it as a lamia, not a shtriga, but it would still die the same way.

 

The creature reared up over Emmaline’s still form, and now Cas moved. The lamia hadn’t noticed them; it was too intent on finishing the job.

 

Cas brought the gun up, aimed, and fired all in one smooth motion. The lamia shrieked and collapsed on top of Emmaline, who woke with a start and a little shriek.

 

Maryanne lurched forward, pulling Emmaline out of bed and into her arms, whisking her away into the hall. Cas could hear her speaking in low tones, assuring the girl that she would be fine.

 

Cas used the now-ruined comforter on the child’s bed to bundle up the lamia’s body, wishing with all his heart that the thing had just dissipated.

 

He heard the Birches’ raised voices in the hallway, and Cas slung the body over his shoulder. Although no one looked very closely at his bundle, Andrew and Cara both expressed their gratitude.

 

“Her fever has broken,” Cara said. “She’s already looking better. I think it worked.”

 

“I’m glad to hear that.” He hefted his burden, trying to get a more secure grip. “If you’ll excuse me.”

 

When he stepped outside the Birches’ small house, the air was cool and sweet. He dropped the lamia’s body on the ground without ceremony. They would have to burn it later, and he and Maryanne would have to let Dean know that the problem was taken care of.

 

“That was a wonderful thing you did,” Maryanne said from behind him.

 

Cas shook his head. “It was the right thing to do, and we were happy to help.”

 

“I hope you’ll stay,” she said. “You and Dean. I know there isn’t much here, but—”

 

“It seems like a good place to raise children, and that’s what we’re looking for.” Cas turned to look at her. “Dean and I have talked, and we’d like to settle down.”

 

Maryanne nodded, her expression satisfied. “You’d be a welcome addition.”

 

~~~~~

 

The day they moved into the old farmhouse a few miles outside of Cypress Grove, the sky was a brilliant, cloudless blue. As Cas stood on the porch, looking out over their scrubby yard, he felt the boards creak and groan ominously underneath him.

 

The porch needed repair, the house needed new paint, a hundred and one things needed to be fixed. It was as different from heaven as could be, and yet, as Dean came up to stand next to him shoulder to shoulder—

 

Cas couldn’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be.


End file.
